


some infinities are bigger than others

by reginasmills



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic!Fluff, F/F, Fluff, fluff with a teensy weensy bit of angst bc it's me what were u expecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:52:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginasmills/pseuds/reginasmills
Summary: “I’m not going anywhere,” Emma says, and it feels like a promise, it feels like a forever, and she almost laughs, because forever is a word she never thought she’d understand.





	

Emma wakes first, the next morning. She wakes to soft sheets and the gentle morning sun, and to an arm curled gently around her waist. For a moment, she doesn’t dare to move, her chest tightening, her body stiffening. This quiet peace, this _hard-won_ peace, seems almost too fragile, and she’s afraid it might shatter with one wrong move. Then Regina shifts a little, her arm winding tighter around Emma’s waist, and she lets out a shaky breath. _Everything is okay_ , she tells herself, _everything’s going to be okay_. She turns around such that she’s facing Regina, and watches the way the sunlight falls on her face. She’s soft in her sleep, the harsh lines of worry softening into gentle curves, and there’s an unguardedness, an _openness_ about her that Emma almost never sees, except in the rare moments of _you saved me,_ and _i’m afraid to raise Henry alone_. She lifts a hand, and brushes it, almost reverently, against Regina’s cheek, silhouetted by the soft golden hues of the morning sun. 

 

Regina’s eyes flutter open, and Emma draws her hand back sharply, tensing _._ She braces herself for a _what are you doing in my bed, Miss Swan,_ a sharp withdrawal, a _last night meant nothing_. Instead, Regina’s lips tug upwards in a gentle smile, and she’s pressing a soft kiss to Emma’s forehead. Emma’s thoughts, previously a panicked hundred-and-twenty-miles-per-hour rush in her head, grind to a halt. She’s pretty sure her mouth is still hanging open when Regina draws back with a brilliant smile, somehow more dazzling than the sunlight filtering into the bedroom. Then Regina is slipping out of bed, and her body is protesting at the sudden lack of contact, the lack of _warmth._ She watches as Regina pulls on a robe and pads out of the room, and then she collapses back on the soft, _soft_ pillows and feels a stupid, _goofy_ smile come onto her face. _Everything is okay,_ she thinks. The grin on her face widens. _More than okay_. 

 

She can hear Henry thumping around upstairs, and decides that it would probably be a good idea to get out of bed, even if she doesn’t want to ( _she really, really doesn’t. she blames the sheets, and the annoyingly soft pillows. The warm duvet really isn’t helping either._ ). She drags her unwilling body to the bathroom. The grin is still plastered on her face. _Get it together, Swan_ , she tells herself. The grin stays on. She gives up, wandering down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

 

The air in the kitchen is warm, filled with the smell of pancakes and coffee, and her stomach growls in anticipation. Henry, balancing an armful of plates, raises an eyebrow at her in what is such an undeniably _Regina-esque_ way that she feels her grin get inevitably bigger.

 

“Patience, Emma,” Regina says dryly, and Emma’s stomach does a happy little flip when Regina says her name ( _she puts it down to its enthusiasm for pancakes)._

 

“Wasn’t me,” she denies, because a day when she doesn’t seize the chance to bicker with Regina isn’t a real day.

 

She winds her hand around Regina’s waist and tugs her close, pressing her lips to her neck.

 

“Emma,” Regina says exasperatedly, “I’m busy —”

 

Emma shuts her up by meeting her lips with a kiss, and her stomach does _thatflippything_ again when Regina melts into her. 

 

“Gross,” Henry mutters, as he comes back into the kitchen. They break apart, and Emma is grinning again. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she watches Regina’s cheeks flush and the way she returns hurriedly to the pancakes. She steals a pancake off the finished pile, and meets Regina’s glare with a sheepish smile and a muffled but enthusiastic _these are good, Regina_ , and her heart thuds louder as Regina’s glare softens into a fond expression.

 

“You are a _child_ ,” Regina admonishes, smacking Emma’s fingers away from where they’ve been sneaking for the second time towards the pile of pancakes. Emma huffs, and waits for Regina to pile the rest of the pancakes onto the plate, before dashing out of the kitchen, plate in tow. She catches the way Regina rolls her eyes, and smiles.

Breakfast together with Regina and Henry is _home_ in a way that she had never felt, even when she was with her parents. She watches the way Regina stops Henry from drowning his pancakes in syrup, and then rolls her eyes, _again_ , in exasperation when Emma does the exact same thing to her own pancakes. Regina’s hand brushes against hers as she reaches for her coffee, and Emma catches herself thinking _I could do this forever_. 

 

Afterwards, Henry’s squirrelled away upstairs doing math ( _Regina had insisted, with a Very Serious Glare, when Henry had tried to get them to watch a movie instead)_ , and Regina turns towards Emma.

 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Regina asks, casually, and a little forced. 

 

Emma’s heart suddenly thuds louder, so _loud_ that it rings in her ears. _She doesn’t want me here, she doesn’t she doesn’t she doesn’t._

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma starts, and Regina looks up from where she’s been stacking their plates into the dishwasher.

 

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your morning with Henry, I just —”

 

Regina has finished loading the dishwasher, and she turns, placing a soft hand on Emma’s arm and Emma flinches slightly. Her eyes are _warm, warm, warm,_ and Emma finds herself wishing that she could drown in them. 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Regina says, softly, “it’s just, you usually spend Sunday mornings with your family. Snow. Charming. The lot.”

 

Emma’s heart stops thumping frantically and she thinks _oh._ Suddenly, it strikes her that maybe Regina is just as _afraid_ of losing people as she is. The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

 

“You’re family,” she says.

 

There's a pause, and the corner of Regina's mouth tugs up in a small smile.

 

Then she’s backing Regina up against the kitchen counter and they are _kissing, kissing, kissing_. Regina’s hand rises to gently cradle her cheek, and she responds by tangling her fingers in Regina’s hair. This isn’t like last night, there is none of the hurriedness, none of the _desperation_. This is soft, and gentle and warm. This is _I’m home_ , this is _I’m here,_ this is _I’m not leaving_. Then Regina pulls back slightly and whispers _you’re family too_ , her warm breath ghosting against Emma’s lips, and Emma’s chest feels so, _so_ tight. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Emma says, and it feels like a _promise,_ it feels like a _forever,_ and she almost laughs, because _forever_ is a word she never thought she’d understand.

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Emma,” Regina says softly. She’s still smiling, but her eyes are full of pain, and all Emma wants to do is to kiss it away. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Emma repeats, fiercely, “I’m going to stay right here, and if you want me to leave you’re going to have to kick me out into the cold and I know you wouldn’t do that —”

 

“Emma,” Regina says, fondly, and Emma’s rambling speech grinds to a halt, and _okay yes,_ it was _embarrassing_ and not particularly eloquent but Regina is laughing now and that’s all she’s ever wanted, really. Emma breaks into a grin, which widens when Regina presses a soft kiss to her cheek. The grin is still plastered on Emma’s face when Regina tugs her into their bedroom ( _and yes, it is_ their _bedroom now_ ) _,_ pushing her onto the bed and closing the door with a lazy flick of her wrist. 

 

A few rooms over, Henry rolls his eyes and increases the volume of his music, shoving his earphones more firmly in. He loves his moms, but _really_? Checking the clock, he sighs. It’s not even midday yet. He rolls his eyes again and goes back to his math.

**Author's Note:**

> a little friday surprise!! I was in the mood for domestic!fluff and this came out haha hope y'all enjoy it and comments are always welcome :-)


End file.
